Good Match
by somanyfeelings
Summary: Jemma and Skye go undercover as a couple, so of course they've got to act like one.


"We need matching dish towels."

"We're never going to use dish towels."

Jemma doesn't appear to hear Skye, and she adds, "I'd imagine we're also going to need matching charm bracelets as well. Maybe five or so charms each, and we have to make sure they all tell a story."

"Jemma," Skye says louder, interrupting the scientist from her writing. "We don't need matching dish towels. Or charm bracelets, or — what else did you say? — underwear. Why would anyone even see our underwear? What kind of fake girlfriend do you think I am?"

Skye walks over quickly, plucking the piece of paper from Jemma's hand before she can go back to adding ideas, and Jemma glares at her. She's been working on the list for two hours now, thank you very much, and it still wasn't anywhere near complete. If they were to be a convincing fake couple, they needed to prepare. They needed to match.

"My suitcase is already packed," Skye continues. "Or, well, suitcases, because I have three. But seriously, we're supposed to leave soon. Let's go say goodbye and hear the 'don't do anything stupid' speech again, because then we've got to peace out."

"Only if you give me back my list," Jemma counters.

Skye dangles it out in front of her, but when Jemma goes to grab it she yanks it back, smirking much too innocently.

"Skye," Jemma scoffs.

"Jemma."

"Can I please have my list?"

Skye pauses, acting as though the question required a great deal of deliberation. Finally she spoke: "Okay, fine, here. No matching underwear, though. That's just weird."

—

The neighbors come over to introduce themselves within an hour of their arrival, and it's Skye who answers the door.

"Oh! Hi," she says, and Jemma hears her from the other room. "I'm Mary. My girlfriend and I just moved in, but sorry, I missed your names. What are they again?"

Jemma's glad she's not in Skye's place — she has been working on her lying; it's not working yet — and she notes with some pride that their alibis seem to hold steady.

Or, at least, they are for the moment, because Jemma's heart sinks as she hears Skye say, "She's right in the other room. Let me go grab her!"

—

The bed, they both realize, is tiny. And not just tiny, but awkwardly placed: it's wedged against the wall of the bedroom, so the only way to get on is from one side. Skye ends up somehow trying to hop over Jemma and not wake her when she finally goes to bed.

"What're doing?" Jemma murmurs groggily.

"I'm, uh, trying to get into this damn bed. Because, you know, I can't really get in from the other side unless I pull a Mission: Impossible and climb outside to scale the wall."

"Why didn't you just ask me to roll over?" Jemma asks, doing exactly that. Skye offers a small grin and climbs in next to her.

"I didn't want to wake you up."

Jemma doesn't reply, but she breathes a quiet laugh and curls up next to Skye. She's warm, and their awkward arrangement is surprisingly comfortable.

—

"Quick, hold my hand."

Jemma looks over at Skye like she's gone utterly insane, so Skye continues, "The neighbors, they're looking at us weirdly. Hold my hand."

Skye's the field agent, so Jemma decides she must know what she's talking about. But the girl's fingers are freezing against her own, and she pulls away.

"You need gloves!"

Skye takes this as a challenge and immediately presses the palm of her hand against Jemma's cheek. Jemma squeals and hops away.

Soon enough they're both laughing, and they pass by the neighbors as Skye pokes at Jemma, trying to get her to hold her hand. And even though they can stop, they don't.

—

Skye tells herself that she's kissing Jemma to maintain their covers. The neighbors are watching, and she's painfully aware of the space between them, the lack of contact. So before she can convince herself otherwise, Skye wraps her arms around the other girl and kisses her.

"Wha-?" Jemma starts.

"Just go with it."

She does. It's for their covers, after all. Obviously.

—

And they practice later. Kissing, that is. It's only reasonable that they make an effort to appear to be as much of a couple as possible.

—

They've been undercover for nine weeks and somewhat dating for six when Skye turns to Jemma, smirking, and says, "You were right."

Jemma nods as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "About what, may I ask?"

"Matching underwear. We should've gotten matching underwear. Actually, we can still get matching underwear."

And though Jemma finds no cons in this plan, she can't help but roll her eyes. "Coulson is going to kill us."


End file.
